Goodbye
by spiffydorksarah
Summary: Joaquin first discovering that Manolo is dead and his reaction towards it.


_**(A/N: This is just a quick one-shot I wrote based on seeing various suggestions and prompts about Joaquin's reaction to Manolo's death. Thanks for reading!)**_

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><p>Time ran together in an overwhelming blur; at one moment he was on the bridge outside of San Angel ready to fight the bandits, while the next he was in the heart of the city with the eyes of the townspeople fixated on the girl he held in his hands. An underlying sense of panic slowly filled the watchers. Were they being attacked? Whispers floated around the groups.<p>

"Los bandidos están aquí?"

"No, un serpiente lo hizo..."

_It had been a snake that killed Maria Posada._

Joaquin felt numb, and the only thing that he could think of was the badge that had been the foundation of his life up until this point. It had gotten him past every bad situation, but this time it was different. He wished that he could pin it on Maria; bring her back to life. Yet even the medal was powerless in this case. Not even "The Great Joaquin" could fix this.

He could remember placing Maria on her bed, with the local priest by his side, deeply in prayer. Joaquin stepped back quietly, somewhat awkwardly. Slightly surprised by this himself, he found himself humbly praying that she wasn't actually gone. There was no way she could be. How could someone, so full of life and spirit one night, be completely empty the next day so quickly, without warning? There had to be a doctor or a nurse or _somebody _who could help the situation. Somebody…

His mind thought of everything in the world. Everything but the fact that he would most likely never speak to Maria again.

_It had been a snake that killed Maria Posada._

He had been in that room for a long time, or at least it felt like it. He had gotten questions and accusations and apologizes galore. Joaquin couldn't take it any longer. He was used to being haunted by the dead, but never like this.

It had not been Manolo's fault. For the first time in awhile, a pang of sudden guilt struck through Joaquin. He clenched his fists. He knew he needed to apologize, and as soon as possible, for that would be what Maria would want. Yet she couldn't be dead. She just couldn't. So, he decided, Maria would not want to wake up to their belligerence. She would wake up, after all. His heart started to race. He had not felt true physical pain in years, and yet he was sure it had to be similar to this.

The hero-if he could even be called that anymore- exited the room, queasy. A few of the sisters were standing outside the bedroom door, fingers quickly moving from bead to bead on their rosaries. Joaquin brushed by them and jogged down the stairs. He ran outside to his faithful horse, ignoring the rain completely, and pulled himself onto the saddle. "Come on, boy. Manolo has to be here for this."

Thunder roared in the distance. He rode past the gossiping villagers. Past the staring children, curiously peering out of the windows. Past the wet, lifeless candles bordering the bridge. In a passing thought, Joaquin realized that Manolo had put a lot of thought into his set up for Maria. More than he ever had. Manolo deserved to be forgiven more than anybody. He deserved to say his last goodbyes to Maria. Properly.

But she wasn't dead. She couldn't be.

"Manolo! Manolo?!"

Joaquin pulled back harshly on the reigns, forcing his horse to stop with a loud whinny, arching up on his two back hooves. The warrior's eyes widened and he almost fell off his stallion as he made his way to his friend.

"Manolo, what...what are you doing?"

Manolo Sanchez laid motionless on the ground underneath the tree, sheltered from the rain. Joaquin staggered over, collapsing beside Sanchez's cold body, and starting to shake him violently. He knew deep down it was all in vain. "Not you too! No, no, no…"

Manolo did not open his eyes. Joaquin continued to helplessly shake him, a bump rising in his throat as he did so. "What I said earlier, I didn't mean it...I didn't….no, you can't be…" His voice cracked. He hunched over his friend, trembling.

_It had been a snake that killed Maria Posada._

"You can't go this easily…you would never go this easily…" And for the first time, Joaquin finally felt the hot tears run down his cheeks. They wouldn't stop. They kept trickling down rhythmically and his throat clenched up. He could barely speak, and yet he had to say his last words. In almost a whisper, he choked them out. "You're my best friend, you know that? You've always been there for me, even when I wasn't for you...and I know, wherever you are, you're playing your favorite song without a care...and you're with Maria…and you're happy with her..."

Maria was gone. She just had to be. There was no more denying it. "And...I won't ever forget you...and I'm sorry...I'm sorry for what I said to you this morning and before that…Maria was right; it was so childish…and she's gone too." He leaned back, eyes staring blankly at the ground. "It was no retreat, no surrender...and it wasn't supposed to end like this, Manny."

The medal glowed on Joaquin's chest, proudly and mockingly. However it reminded him of his duty. He stood up, legs barely able to support him at this point. Someone specific had the right to know of this. He wiped his eyes and got back on his horse, trying to compose himself at least until he wouldn't have to see a soul.

In a daze, Joaquin directed the horse towards a certain house in San Angel. He banged on the door, dreading its opening. Of course the man answered however, and there was no more avoidance.

"Señor Sanchez, it's about Manolo…"

_It had been a snake that had killed his two best friends._

He felt hopelessly immortal.


End file.
